She shakes her head. “It’s a corset top, so no. It’s a two-piece set with a skirt and a top.”
“Wow.”
When she hands it over, I can tell by the fabric alone that it’s expensive. “Are you sure? I might get something on it. You know I almost exclusively drink red wine.”
She laughs. “I’m not too worried about it. We can get a stain out. You look so pretty.”
She smiles, her eyes twinkling. Her dark hair is in two braids that are woven around her head like a crown. I’d bet money Eden styled it. She’s a master with braids.
“I like yours too. Where are the boys? Causing mayhem?”
“Duke and Sam are playing cornhole with them.”
“Hello, hello,” another voice says from the door. Rosie pokes her head in. “Are you almost ready?”
“Oh, yeah. I just need to get dressed and put on my lip color.”
She walks in, handing me a champagneflute with bubbles rising to the top. “Brought you a getting-ready drink.”
Her nails are red, and I realize with a start that it was her idea for us all to go get manicures two days before the trip. Mine are almond-shaped in a soft pastel pink … a color Monroe chose for me.
Wow. They conspired together and fooled me, right up until today.
I sip the champagne because my throat is so dry that it feels like it might crack.
“Are we taking an Uber?”
“No. There’s a private chef team making appetizers now. They’re serving it on the patio in a couple of hours,” Rosie says.
“Oh! And the mixologist just got here. She’s making me a lemon martini. Do you want something?” Dolly adds.
I shake my head. “I’m good for now, but thank you. I’m just gonna change, and I’ll be out there.”
“Okay!” Rosie says, grinning.
They both turn and leave me alone, and I exhale a deep sigh.
I’m freaking out.
The idea of potentially getting married again is making me sweat bullets. I feel like the interior of this house is an oven, rapidly climbing up to four hundred degrees.
Why am I feeling this way?
I want to marry Duke. I know I do.
I lift the champagne glass to my lips and chug the entire thing. It burns down my throat, making my eyes water.
I finish getting dressed, put on the dark cherry-colored lipstick, and survey my reflection.
Not too shabby.
The outfit is gorgeous. It’s a two-piece cotton set in a lacy pattern. The top is a corset that flatters my figure perfectly, but the bottom skirt is almost too small for my wide hips.
“You got this. You are a strong, independent woman. You deserve this. You deserve to be loved like this.” Unexpected tears spring into my eyes as I say the last words, just as the door opens behind me.
I meet Duke’s blue eyes. He blinks, the corner of his lips twisting up as his gaze dips over my frame.
“Hot damn. I’m a lucky bastard.”
